The King rode fast, the King rode far;
“Now, by my crown,” quoth he,
“If I in all the land shall find
A maiden of contented mind,
Be she of high or low degree,
By Pagan rite or Christian signed,
My consort she shall be.”

But when he chanced the maid to meet,
So well content was she,
She would not wed, but, deaf and blind,
Went on her way. “Alack, I find
I'm caught in my own web,” quoth he;
“This maiden of contented mind
Is too content for me!”